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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26960188">Phaedo</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Northern__Lights20/pseuds/Northern__Lights20'>Northern__Lights20</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe, Arranged Marriage, Character Death, Dark, Emotional Manipulation, Eventual Sex, Eventual Smut, F/M, Girl-Who-Lived (Harry Potter), M/M, Malfoy Twins - Freeform, Marriage Contracts, Master of Death (Harry Potter), Mildly Dubious Consent, Miscarriage, No Boy-Who-Lived (Harry Potter), Order of the Phoenix Bashing (Harry Potter), Reincarnated Harry Potter, Reincarnation, Unplanned Pregnancy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 19:29:30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>8,906</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26960188</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Northern__Lights20/pseuds/Northern__Lights20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Liliana Malfoy was born into Darkness and raised to one day become a Consort for an Ancient and Noble House. After the Dark Lord takes an interest in Liliana, she begins to realize how deep his infatuation for her goes. Plagued by visions of her death, Liliana struggles to understand her connection with the Dark Lord, a forgotten prophecy, and the quest for the Hallows. Can love overcome lifetimes of betrayal?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Draco Malfoy/Blaise Zabini, Harry Potter/Voldemort, Lucius Malfoy/Narcissa Black Malfoy, Tom Riddle | Voldemort/Original Female Character(s), Tom Riddle/Original Character(s), Voldemort/Original Character</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>44</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Oneirocritica</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The only sounds that could be heard in the quiet wood was my labored breathing and the snap of tree branches under my boots. The only source of light came from a small sliver of the moon and I struggled to avoid the branches that whipped across my face and pulled at my hair and slip. My muscles ached and my breath was ragged--but I was too afraid to stop running and face the demons that chased me deeper into the forest surrounding our home. </p><p>It had been raining since yesterday morning and with each step, I sank deeper and deeper into the thick mud. One branch whipped me particularly hard across the face and my hand pressed against the cut on my cheek. My toes began to burn from the cold and glancing down, I realized that I must have lost one of my boots to the mud. Panic had already settled into the pit of my stomach since I had jumped the fence and I had just started to realize how futile my attempts at escaping were. I could hear my attackers start to close in and I realized that there was no way I would be able to outrun them. My head snapped side to side, my eyes squinting in the dim light, searching for a hiding spot. </p><p>A flash of lightning brightened the night sky and thunder shook the ground beneath my feet. For a few seconds, the world around me lit up and I saw a newly fallen tree, resting a few yards ahead. Shrouded in darkness again, I frantically sprinted over to it, my hands outstretched in front of me. My fingertips grazed the rough surface of the bark and I began to claw my way up the trunk. The width of the massive oak was comparable to my height and I struggled to scramble over the top of it.<br/>
The shouts of the men following me and the constant thudding of footsteps faded away, but I knew with a quick tracing spell they would be back soon. I pressed myself into the rough bark of the fallen tree and tried to not to think of how pathetic I was, waiting for death.</p><p>The light mist I had originally encountered when I escaped the manor’s gardens had turned into a heavy downpour and I pressed my freezing hands into my armpits, trying to regain any feeling in my fingers. Gone was the heat of adrenaline that previously kept me warm and the cold wind whipped around my face.<br/>
Tom was going to be furious when he found out that I had run in order to distract the Order. I knew he was powerful enough to take on the Order of the Phoenix alone but I couldn’t live with myself if I had risked the Order infiltrating the manor. Too many secrets, dark artifacts, and research resided in Tom’s study that could potentially cause our side to lose the war if it fell into Order’s hands. </p><p>I was wandering through the gardens when I stumbled upon Regulus, curled into a ball, crying softly. I remembered hearing how his own brother had chosen to side with Dumbledore and my heart broke for him. I called out to Regulus and he turned to gaze pitifully into my eyes. Before he could speak a word, cracks of apparition filled the garden. It took me only half a second to realize what he had done. I panicked, realizing that the wards surrounding the manor itself were locking down. With no choice other than to run, I sprinted towards the fence and hurled myself over the garden’s walls. It took a moment before I heard the sounds of the Order chasing after me, yelling the incantation to basic stunning spells. </p><p>I bit my lip, trying to quiet my gasps, and rested my head against the tree. I felt like a rabbit, with it’s leg caught in a snare, waiting for the hunters to come and put me out of my misery. Deep inside myself, I had always had a sick feeling that I would not see our side’s victory. It felt as if I was destined to die, having already tainted my soul in the worst of ways. I closed my eyes and wondered if my hunters would kill me quickly or if they would choose to turn me over to the Ministry to punish me for my Lord’s crimes. I imagined Azkaban to be like the snare on the rabbit’s foot, slowly starving the poor animal until their weak heart gave out. </p><p>My hands clutched my slightly rounded abdomen, trying to soothe the flutters that assaulted the ball of steel that had settled in the pit of my stomach. It was the thoughts of never seeing Tom again that tugged at my soul and broke my heart. I would never see the waves of anger rolling off Tom once he realized what I had left the manor without a wand. I would never spend another afternoon in Tom’s study, watching him mull over his plans for the Ministry. I would never fall asleep with my head on his chest, listening to his steady, powerful heartbeat. I would never get to see his face when he finally figured out that my stomach flu had suddenly turned into a little heir. </p><p>Surely they wouldn’t allow a pregnant witch into Azkaban, I reasoned with myself. They’d probably kill me for my Lord’s crimes before anyone would know that I was carrying Tom’s heir. It was oddly soothing to go over the reasons why I would be put to death rather than imprisoned. Lightning flashed across the sky again and I glanced up, letting the raindrops slide off my face. It was quite peaceful, waiting for death.</p><p>A few minutes later, a gloved hand reached over the top of the fallen tree and a terrified scream tore through my throat. The hand grabbed a fistful of my hair and yanked me out from my hiding spot. I shoved my attacker, bashing my head into the tree. Lights danced in front of my eyes and nausea ripped through me. </p><p>“It’s such a shame you’re alone,” he sneered in my ear, pressing his wand into my neck. He pulled me closer as my head spun and I choked on the bile that had risen up my throat. “Where’s your savior now?” he mockly whispered into my ear, laughing as I feebly struggled against him. I took a deep breath in an attempt to control the dizziness and shoved my hands against his chest, in one last attempt to save myself. He spun me around, slamming my face into the tree. My cheek scraped against the rough bark and I cried out, pleading for him to stop.<br/>
Suddenly I heard that curse in an all too familiar voice and my captor spun us both around again, holding my body in front of his. A flash of bright green clouded my vision, but not before I saw the despair in Tom’s eyes.</p><p>...</p><p> </p><p>I shot up in my bed, breathing heavily, with sweat dripping down my face. My heart raced with panic and my hands shook as I brushed my hair out of my face. Tears started to form and I fought to calm myself before they escaped down my cheeks. I took a few more deep, calming breaths before laying back down. I rolled over onto my side and stared out the window that overlooked my mother’s gardens, only to find that the sun had just begun to rise. “It’s not real--it’s just a dream,” I told myself, repeating the sentiment over and over.</p><p>This wasn’t the first time I had dreamt of dying. My Mind Healer used to tell me that nightmares were normal. “A fear of death is healthy,'' he explained to my parents, who sent me to St. Mungo’s after running to their bedroom every night for a month straight. He didn’t use that answer anymore after a year of weekly appointments and no signs of improvement.</p><p>After that fiasco, I was prescribed a nightly dose of Dreamless Sleep and was told that we would re-evaluate in a month. At that point, I was old enough to realize that re-evaluation could mean being institutionalized. I had visited Aunt Bella in St. Mungo’s Janus Thickey Ward enough to know that I did not want to end up there. So, I started to pretend that the dreams were gone and I was fixed. I honestly deserved an award for my performance at my re-evaluation with the Mind Healer. </p><p>I rolled over onto my back and sighed quietly, realizing that I probably wasn’t going to get anymore sleep today. I threw my arm over and reached my hand towards the nightstand. My wand quickly flew into my fingertips and a warmth cascaded down my arm. I quickly dispelled the privacy charm around my bed and sat up, stretching. Light had just begun to peak through the window, and I knew the Manor was going to be buzzing with activity soon.</p><p>I slipped from my bed into the bathroom, flinching as my feet hit the cold stone floor. I took off my muggle shorts and t-shirt and threw them in the general vicinity of the hamper. I remembered how rebellious I had felt when my brother Draco returned from a raid with them as a gift. I had been so angry at my father for not letting me attend the raid that marked my twin’s debut into the Dark Lord’s Inner Circle. The ensuing argument led to me being grounded for three days for breaking Septimus Malfoy’s wife’s favorite blue vase. (Honestly, who would have thought that keeping a relic from the 18th century in the foyer was a brilliant idea?) </p><p>Draco knew how secretly hurt I was that not only was I not allowed to attend, but my own debut into the Inner Circle was rejected by our Lord. Even if it was behind closed doors, it made me feel silly with bravery and drunk with pride to wear muggle clothes. It reminded me of when we were younger and would steal our mother’s wand to play Magic out in the garden. Wearing muggle clothes was our own little secret, much like the games we played as children.</p><p>I hopped into the shower, sighing as the hot water ran over my frozen toes. Growing up on the outskirts of Little Hangleton, the harsh months of winter always chilled me to the bone, no matter how many warming charms my mother casted on Draco and me when we went to play outside. I longed for Spring to come sooner rather than later--spring meant warmth and an end to the bitter cold. </p><p>I lived for the few weeks where the flowers would bloom, when the Earth felt as if it was reborn, and times where I would catch my parents enjoying each other’s company. Spring meant that my mother would spend her days in the garden while my father was busy working at our Lord’s manor. Spring meant that Draco and I were allowed to chase each other on the grounds, running into the House Elves that tried to bring us in for supper.</p><p>Just before supper, our father would return home exhausted from his work, but eager to see my mother and us again. I used to wait in the closet next to our apparition parlour to sneak glances of the few affectionate moments between my parents. Draco often thought that I was silly for spying on our parents but I, like most young witches, longed for someone to give me the affection I saw between my parents.</p><p>My mother never missed a chance to brag about how successful my private dueling lessons were going or how impressive my potions skills were to anyone who had a son that could possibly be considered a suitor for me. Those comments had never really embarrassed me before; as a young child, I had always dreamed of a prince as my suitor. But now, with my Debutante Ball being held at the end of this week, passing comments about my abilities as a future wife made me nervous to think of who would ask for my hand. </p><p>I rinsed out my hair for the final time, lingering under the hot water for an extra moment or two. As soon as I worked up the nerve to brace the bitter cold of my bathroom again, I heard someone banging at the door. “C’mon Lils! Father wants to see you for breakfast!” Draco yelled through the door. </p><p>I turned off the shower and paused for a second, listening to my mother chastise my brother for using the silly nickname he gave me when we were three. I snickered silently to myself and called for Minny, one of our house elves. Minny popped in quickly and I had her bring me a black dress, matching tights, and a set of black robes. I changed quickly and on my way out of the bathroom, cast a quick tempus while I threw on my boots. </p><p>Realizing that my father had stayed later than usual to speak with me, I hurried into the hallway and down the stairs. A few times when I was younger, I had overheard my father’s friends and other members of the Inner Circle speak of our Lord’s intolerance of tardiness. They would whisper to the newer members how every minute late to one of his meetings meant a minute under his Cruciatus. My father staying a few minutes late to speak with me meant that he deemed it important enough to potentially piss off the Dark Lord. I worried my lip as I jogged down the stairs, wondering what exactly my father had found out I had done wrong.</p><p>I skidded to a stop outside of one of the informal dining rooms and smoothed my robe out. I took a deep breath, smoothing out my expression, and headed in to see my father. He sat at the head of the dining room table, with his usual cup of tea and scones close by. He was closely examining that morning’s edition of the Daily Prophet, occasionally nodding to himself and directing his enchanted quill to take notes every now and again.</p><p>“Liliana,” my father spoke quietly as he glanced up from the Daily Prophet. “I have a few things I need to discuss with you before Friday.” I internally praised the gods that he hadn’t found my stash of muggle vinyls. “Of course daddy,” I smiled sweetly, taking the seat across from him. </p><p>“As you know, we are hosting several Ancient and Noble Houses, most of which have heirs who are looking for their potential next Lady,” my father began, putting down his paper. “I know,” I mumbled. “I’m ready to hopefully begin my role as a Consort, and please our Lord by continuing our Pureblood Line,” I said more clearly, looking up from the table. Hopefully he wouldn’t notice that my answer consisted of memorized lines from the book mother brought me a few weeks after my thirteenth birthday, “A Young Witches Guide to Continuing the Pureblood Legacy.” The following year the Dark Lord decreed that all heirs of Ancient and Noble houses had to begin searching for a potential consort or suitor by their seventeenth birthday. If one was not chosen within a year, our Lord would match the couple himself. </p><p>Our Pureblood lines were quickly disappearing, and generations of marrying cousins did not bode well for the Sacred twenty-eight. Malfoys were notorious for only being able to conceive one child but my mother was blessed enough to have Draco and I. We were a few weeks shy of seventeen, and Draco had already expressed an interest in courting Blaise, our childhood friend. Male pregnancy potions weren’t too uncommon and the rumor was that our Lord was going to approve the union. That left me to endure the customary Debutante Ball all on my own.<br/>
My father gave me a tight smile. “Yes, darling, I know you shall make our Lord proud. In fact a very serious offer was made-” he began but swallowed thickly, trying to think of the right way to phrase my proposal. </p><p>My father had always favored me so his hesitation unsettled me. A ball of nerves settled into the pit of my stomach but I refused to let anything break through the pleasant mask I had put on my face. I could picture my father cancelling the Ball if someone well off enough had made a good enough offer. </p><p>“It’s customary for me to have a Debutante Ball,” I blurted out before I could stop myself, “I’m not even of age yet.” My father gave me a stern look before opening and closing his mouth, in a very un-Mafloy-like manner, as if he was searching for the right words. That was a first. </p><p>I could only imagine whose proposal would shock my father, Lord Malfoy, enough for him to be at a loss of words. Just as he opened his mouth to scold me, he glanced at the old grandfather clock that sat at the head of the dining room. He cursed quietly under his breath and stood up abruptly. He walked around the dining room table and let his hand rest on my shoulder. He gave my shoulder a light squeeze and said, “I know darling. We’ll talk more before this Friday.” </p><p>I glanced up at his face and he beamed with pride. I mustered a confident smile and told him to wish our Lord well before he strode gracefully out of the dining room.</p><p>I let out a deep breath that I hadn’t realized that I had been holding in. ‘I have to do this,’ I thought to myself, ‘I have to keep my faith in our Lord and our cause.’ Lessons from my mother starting when I was ten explained what had always been expected of a daughter--I was bound to become a Lady of some Ancient and Noble House while my brother was tasked with being the Lord of the Ancient and Noble House of Malfoy. As soon as I turned thirteen, my lessons shifted from etiquette and responsibilities of a Lady to the duties I had to perform for my future husband. My future marriage was to be built on loyalty, faith and hopefully grow into love. I wasn’t opposed--I knew that it was my duty to provide and raise a viable heir for my husband. It felt natural for me to slip into the role that I’ve watched my mother successfully navigate. But when I had pictured my future, I couldn’t help but imagine a prince from some far away land, coming to swoop me off my feet, like some muggle fairy tale.</p><p>I couldn’t help but wonder who would make such a serious offer so early on that it warranted my father to rethink holding my Debutante Ball. ‘Probably the Nott family,’ I thought to myself, picturing their eldest son who had very capable magical abilities. ‘Or maybe it was someone from the Rowe family.’ That thought wasn’t as appealing, but it could be worse. It could be the sons from the Crabbe or Goyle family. I internally shuddered at the thought of having my first be with those buffoons. </p><p> While I was deep in thought, Draco waltzed into the dining room and promptly sat in the seat next to me. “What did father want,” he grumbled,  picking up a scone. I knew him well enough to recognize that Draco was still annoyed by my mother’s early morning chasitize and wasn’t looking for me to give a real answer. I shook my head absentmindedly and muttered, “Just reminding of this coming Friday.” Instantly, Draco bristled, dropped his scone, and glanced over at me. </p><p>“There’s no excuse for ignoring it Draco,” I whispered to him softly, “We always knew it was coming.” Having my Debutante during Yule was almost considered scandalous, seeing how my birthday wasn’t until February. The only reason that our father even allowed it was because the Dark Lord insisted that holding the Ball during Yule would be best. Some eligible heirs of a few of the lesser Ancient and Noble Houses were still in Hogwarts, whereas Draco and I had finished our schooling through a private tutor after the Ministry threatened to expel most of the children from known Dark families that supported our Lord. While it was well known that I would probably be courted by someone of the same or higher standing in the Dark community, attendance to these Balls by eligible heirs was mandatory. My brother had fought hard against our father to wait until I was actually of age, but had lost miserably. “It’s not right,” he muttered, glaring down at his plate, “You’re still practically a child.” </p><p>I rolled my eyes and jabbed my elbow into his side, laughing when he jumped out of the way at the last second. “Hey,” I scoffed loudly, offended that he would call me a child, “I’m more than capable and ready to become a wife. And do I have to remind you who’s the oldest?” </p><p>Draco rolled his eyes dramatically, mirroring my earlier actions. Before he could begin his classic speech about who was the favorite child, our mother glided into the room as if she was skating on ice. “Liliana, you have your last fitting in an hour and we need to stop by the bakery in Diagon Alley to pick out pastries for the Ball,” she informed me, ushering me out of the room.<br/>
“Draco, wouldn’t you be a dear and have the house elves start preparing the Ballroom. It’s been out of use for so long,” our mother said wistfully and I couldn’t help but laugh. “Didn’t we just hold a Ball for Samhain?” I asked, unable to keep the laughter out of my voice. </p><p>“Yes, doll but that was ages ago,” my mother exclaimed, grabbing my hand and pulling me into the apparition parlour. Lady Malfoys had always been known for their incredible hosting abilities and my mother was no exception. Even as a young child, my mother often dragged me around with her while she was planning parties, balls, or even an afternoon tea; my Debutante Ball wasn’t an exception to this tradition. I felt a slight tug at my navel and instinctively closed my eyes. As soon as my feet touched the ground outside of my mother’s favorite bakery, she pulled on my arm. “Come on Liliana, a Malfoy-” </p><p>“-Is never late,” I finished, mocking her voice. Mother gave me an exacerbated look and I let her pull me into the bakery.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Tereus</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Lilana prepares herself to attend her Debutante Ball, beginning her role as a future Lady of an Ancient and Noble House.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Just a fore warning--I know that traditionally the spell Legilimency requires the castor to maintain eye contact with the person whose thoughts they are reading. I wanted to create a more meaningful understanding of the dynamics of the relationship between Lilana and the Dark Lord so I bent (essentially broke) this rule. Just wanted to give a heads up to any of you who are really picky about the "improper" use of spells!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The rest of the week flew by so incredibly fast that I had actually considered borrowing the time turner from the warded drawer in my father’s desk. Dessert tasting, music selection, decorations, and flower arrangements had taken the life out of me and I swore to the gods that this was the last time I would ever plan any type of Ball. The fittings were definitely the worst part. Being poked and prodded by an ill tempered tailor who warned me to stay away from the pastries was not my idea of fun. Hopefully my future husband wouldn’t mind me wearing a burlap sack down the aisle at our Wedding. I could only imagine how unbearable the never ending fittings and months of preparation were going to be. ‘Please let my future husband’s family be less flashy than my own,’ I thought to myself. </p><p>The past three days had been pure torture, with my mother giving me judgy looks every time I even looked at a carb, strictly following the tailor’s instructions. I was a naturally small girl, standing no taller than 5’5” in my heels, but my mother was dead set on the fact a cleanse would help bring out my “womanly curves” as she called them. I’d been living off green juice and grapefruit for days and most of my family avoided me, knowing that my usually docile self had turned into an angry snake, ready to lash out at anyone for the smallest of inconveniences.</p><p>The alarm I had set earlier in the day made a shocking, shrilling sound and I jumped involuntarily. I shook my head and laughed at myself. No wonder I wasn’t selected for the Inner Circle if a silly alarm was all it took to scare me.</p><p> I made my way over to the large vanity that sat in the corner of one of the smaller guest suites housed in the West Wing. It would have been more convenient if I had prepared myself in my own rooms but doing so meant having to deal with my brother’s complaints that Blaise wasn’t allowed in his personal quarters after the incident and my aunt’s crazy war stories from her teenage years. One pitiful look from me to my father during breakfast this morning was all it took to be granted permission to get ready in the West Wing, far away from any source of irritation.</p><p>I looked up into the large mirror and gave myself a reassuring smile. I had read and reread our Lord’s word every night this week and silently prayed to the gods that I would please Him and my suitor, whoever they may be. One of the few things that had actually held my nerves together this entire week had been my faith in the Dark Lord and I wasn’t going to abandon my faith now. He had blessed my family in so many ways and any sacrifice I could make for Him I would. This marriage would be beneficial to our cause and any future heirs would continue to fight for the right to practice Dark Magic freely.</p><p> I took a deep breath and tried to focus on the task at hand. I started to pull my hair from the curlers that my mother had rolled in my hair the night before. Before I knew it, I was lost in the memory of my mother doing my hair the night before. </p><p>It had been so long since my mother had brushed and rolled my hair and I couldn’t stop the few tears that spilled down my cheeks as the last curler was placed. Pansy used to always laugh when she found out that my mother fixed my hair the muggle way, instead of using a quick curling charm. When I told my mother, she would shake her head and sigh, saying, “It’s unfortunate that Pansy’s mother would let her go out in public with untamed hair like that, isn’t it dear?” </p><p>My mother’s comments would always make me laugh and feel a tiny bit better--not enough to stop Pansy’s words from echoing in my mind the next time she asked if I wanted help doing my hair. The bittersweet moment ended all too soon and I found myself unable to sleep afterwards, partly because of the regret for all the times I had turned down my mother asking to do my hair, but mostly due to the nightmares that continued to plague me. </p><p>As the week approached my Debutante Ball, my nightmares had taken a more drastic turn, leaving bruises on my arms and legs, as if I had really been running in the woods surrounding Malfoy Manor. It was nothing a few quick healing spells wouldn’t fix, but they scared me enough to force myself to stay awake most of the night and double up on my Dreamless Sleep potion when I had been too exhausted to fight sleep.</p><p> I gave the last curler in my hair a gentle tug and began to brush through the dark ringlets that cascaded down my back. A quiet pop sounded in the room and I caught a glance of Minny in the mirror. “The missus wants me to dos your hair up,” Minny squeaked quietly and started right away taming my dark locks. I almost refused, wanting to ask for my mother, but squashed the thought immediately. I couldn’t keep turning to my mother as if I was a child. </p><p>Just as Minny was finishing styling my hair, my mother and aunt burst into the bedroom. I pressed my lips together to hold in my laughter at the sight of Aunt Bella dragging my mother into the room, in a very undignified manner. Aunt Bella had always been a little ‘special’ as my mother would say, but after her stint in Azkaban during the war, it was well known that Bella had reached a new level of ‘special.’ Her extended stay in St. Mungo’s had curbed most of her eccentric personality but Aunt Bella was still liable to crucio any of the Dark Lord’s new followers if they stepped a toe out of line.</p><p>Aunt Bella bounced over to me, unable to hold her in shrieks of joy. “Itzy Bitzy Lils is all grown up,” she gushed as she clasped her hands to her chest, as if she was praying. “I remember the day you and your brother were born like it was yesterday and now Lils is getting married,” she continued, baby-talking me, the excitement causing her to bounce up and down.<br/>

My mother sighed lightly but didn’t correct her use of my twin’s nickname for me. “I spoke to your father and he said that your special guest is estimated to arrive in two hours,” my mother said excitedly and came to a stop behind me. </p><p>She looked at our reflection in the mirror and gave me a small smile. Although most people thought I was a spitting image of my mother as a teenager, I honestly couldn’t see it. Besides having the same dark hair as her, I paled in comparison to her regal aura that surrounded her. Her pale blue eyes and sharp cheekbones, combined with her perfect posture, looked so much more Malfoy than my green eyes and softer features. My brother used to tease me and say that I must be adopted but my mother would always give him a sharp look before saying that I took after a cousin on the Black family’s side. </p><p>Before I could question her about who exactly was the special guest, she continued with her speech. “When I was at Hogwarts, right around your age, I found a mirror in one of the abandoned classrooms next to the Slytherin Common Room. I had just gotten engaged to your father and was questioning my duty to my parents and the Black household itself. I would sneak into the room after curfew, of course, just to visit this mirror. This mirror wasn’t an ordinary mirror though--this mirror would show you your deepest, darkest desires. Of course, at the time I had no idea, until I found a book that briefly mentioned it in the Malfoy Library after I had married your father the summer after graduation.”</p><p>“What did you see?” I blurted out, unable to keep my curiosity to a minimum. She tightened her eyes at my interruption but continued with her story. “I saw your father, your brother, and you playing in a garden,” she paused for a second and sent me another smile. “I know this process may seem Victorian darling, but you were born for this, just like me and your aunt, and our mother and her mother-” my mother began to choke up, clearly fighting a losing battle with keeping her emotions under control.</p><p> “What Cissy means is that your duty has always been to continue on the Pureblood lines and accepting that will only make this adjustment easier,” Aunt Bella said smartly. “The Dark Lord has returned the Purebloods to their rightful status and you should be honored to be His,” she continued and I couldn’t help but agree with her assessment of the situation. </p><p>I should be honored that I am assisting our Lord and his task for Magic. I should be thankful that my family was blessed enough to serve him. I spun around in my chair to face both of them. My mother was wearing a worried, expectate look on her face which starkly contrasted with Aunt Bella’s crazed smile that seemed permanently fixed there. </p><p>“I’m ready,” I repeated myself for the hundredth time that week. “I know my duty to my family and to the Dark Lord. I know what’s expected of me and I’m grateful that the Dark Lord would bless me with a husband.” That seemed to satisfy my mother and aunt enough for them to leave the room, but not without their parting words of unwanted guidance. </p><p>...</p><p> </p><p>The skirt of my emerald green ball gown brushed against the vanity as I frantically searched for the other diamond earring from the pair that my mother had gotten me for my last birthday. “Shit,” I hissed quietly, throwing open all the drawers and coming up empty. I knew I shouldn’t have let one of the house elves move my things into the West Wing without my supervision.</p><p>I frantically scanned the room before stopping my glaze at the bed. The open jewelry box was resting on the old duvet. I crossed the room in three long strides before carefully bending down next to the bed. “I swear to the gods if it’s not under this bed,” I muttered, and quickly casted a silent Lumos. Dust bunnies rolled around under the bed and it looked as if every left sock I had ever lost to the laundry had taken up residence there. I reminded myself to tell my mother about the neglectful state of this room after the Ball ended.</p><p> Just as I had given up hope of ever finding my earring, I spotted the second diamond stud, sparkling against the hardwood floor. As I stretched my fingers towards the earring, I instantly froze when my fingers brushed against something hard and warm. </p><p>That one touch sent a wave of Dark magic against my skin and pleasant tingles shot up my arm. I bit my lip, trying to hold in the moan of pleasure that almost escaped. I clenched my fingers around the object that had obviously been exposed to an extreme amount of Dark Magic and pulled it towards me. The waves of pleasure didn’t cease to roll up my arms and warm the pit of my stomach. I turned the object over in my hand, scrunching my brow in confusion. The locket was on a gold chain, with tiny emeralds decorating the locket itself. A snake was woven into an S on the front and I traced my finger along it, as if the snake was a charmer and I was the defenseless serpent, unable to keep myself from being enchanted. </p><p>The locket itself was obviously an antique, but seemed to be beautifully preserved. I chewed on the inside of my lip, toying with the idea of wearing it tonight. Oddly, some part of me wanted to showcase it’s beauty while a smaller, quieter part argued that I should leave it where I found it. As if the locket heard my thoughts, the pulsing increased and I quickly dispelled any thoughts of leaving it behind in the West Wing.</p><p>Before I could give it any more thought, a quick knock sounded at the door and I clasped the locket around my neck. It was nestled just above the swell of my chest, which the tight corset had accentuated greatly, leaving me almost breathless. The weight of the locket against my chest stroked my frazzled nerves and the constant pulse of Dark Magic made me feel high with pleasure. I reached under the bed again to grab my missing earring, calling out, “Just a minute!” to what I assumed to be my mother.</p><p>I slipped the earring in on my way out of the West Wing and started to make my way down to the Ballroom. My mother gave the locket a curious glance, but then began to fuss over my dress, trying to smooth out the wrinkles that my excursion under the bed had caused. </p><p>As we neared the entrance of the Ballroom, she started gushing over how many Lords, Ladies, and Foreign Ministers of Magic were in attendance. Her eyes darted around quickly before she leaned in to whisper into my ear, “The Dark Lord is waiting.” I gave her a questioning look and before I could conjure up a response, the doors to the Ballroom flew open and all eyes were cast upon me. Before the first sound of clapping had reached my ears, I placed a forced, soft smile on my face, trying to emulate some of my mother’s regalness. </p><p>Friends of my mother began to gush over my dress and hair, complimenting my mother on what a beautiful witch I had grown into. My mother slid over towards my father and brother, leaving me alone in the Ballroom’s doorway. My father wrapped an arm around my mother and beamed with pride. My brother Draco sent me a reassuring smile, with his arms wrapped around Blaise, who was barely holding in his excitement. </p><p>I gracefully glided into the center of the Ballroom, waiting on the customary first dance with the Lord or heir who had approached my father first for my hand. I was still unsure of who exactly had approached my father earlier in the week, and each time I tried to seek my father out, he conveniently had a meeting to attend. </p><p>I glanced around the room and turned to face my parents again, trying to fight the nervousness that was starting to build again inside me. The locket seemed to pulse even harder than before, and instinctively I brushed my hand against it. I felt a presence behind me, that radiated Dark magic and pulsed in unison with the locket. The audience grew quiet, with a few confused looks on their faces before a look of realization plastered their expressions. </p><p>The women had turned to their neighbors, unable to keep their eyes off the person behind me. The Lords of the Ancient and Noble houses passed approving looks to my father, which almost teetered on the edge of jealousy and admiration. I took a deep breath and turned around slowly, my eyes widening. I quickly bowed my head and tried to slow my racing heart. “My Lord,” I whispered quietly.</p><p>My heart pounded against my chest and I struggled to keep calm. I had only met our Lord once before, and it was briefly in passing. We hadn’t even had a formal introduction and the only correspondence between our Lord and my father that pertained to anything about me was our Lord’s denial of me becoming a part of his Inner Circle. Or at least that was what I had earlier believed. </p><p>Suddenly every mention of the Dark Lord to me from my parents this week ran through my head. ‘There’s no way,’ I thought to myself, realizing that this was the suitor who had approached my father. My thoughts were running a million miles an hour and my hands shook as I lowered them from my chest, down to my sides. </p><p>“My Lady,” he replied, his husky voice surprising me and caused me to raise my eyes from his shoes. As my eyes wandered up his statuesque form, roaming over his broad chest, the smirk that lifted the corners of his thin mouth, the dark hair that was styled effortlessly, and finally his eyes. Red eyes stared into my own and I blushed, losing my train of thought. He raised an eyebrow at me, and for a second I couldn’t remember that I was supposed to respond.</p><p>I blushed again and my eyes automatically returned to his shiny black oxfords. Suddenly, I was painfully aware of the crowd watching my every move and embarrassment flooded through my veins. The only thing that kept me rooted to my spot in the center of the ballroom was the therapeutic pulsing of the locket. I raised my head to meet his eyes again and whispered softly, “Thank you for this honor my Lord.” </p><p>He gave me another small smirk. He lifted his hand, his palm facing upwards, and raised his eyebrow again, as if he was challenging my loyalty to my family and him. I couldn’t fight the shudder that went down my spine and I swallowed thickly, before resting my shaking hand into his. </p><p>His palm felt oddly smoothe and warm, increasing the intensity of the pulsing from my locket. His whole body seemed to radiate Dark Magic, and the tingles that my locket sent down my spine raced to my fingertips, as if they were racing home. Warm sparks continued to assault my senses as the Dark Lord pulled me into the perfect waltz position. “Trust me,” he bent down into my ear to whisper, “the honor is all mine Ms. Malfoy.”</p><p>Our waltz started shakily, due to my over excited nerves and it took several moments to relax enough to focus on the traditional dance. The Dark Lord was a very talented lead and made the complicated dance seem simple as soon as I had calmed myself down. Soon, other couples joined us on the dance floor and I felt the eerie feeling of being watched slowly fade away. I kept sneaking quick peaks up at his face, only to be met with his red eyes glowing intensely back at me. </p><p>I took a deep breath in through my nose and was instantly assaulted with the smell of sandalwood and something that I couldn’t quite pick out. It was intoxicating and I fought to keep my head from lulling against his shoulder. He laughed suddenly and our eyes met again, only this time I was determined not to look away.  </p><p>I hummed softly, wondering what he had found funny. “You seemed shocked,” he answered my unspoken question, his voice soothing my nerves further. “It’s hard to fathom why you would approach my father,” I began but quickly cut myself off, realizing my mistake. If there had been one thing ingrained into my memory as a child, it was never to question the Dark Lord or his decisions. </p><p>He raised his eyebrow at me, his red eyes hardening slightly. Before I could help myself, I blurted out, “I don’t mean to question you. It’s just that you’re the Dark Lord and I’m-”</p><p>“Going to get yourself in trouble,” he said interrupted lightly, squeezing my hand in both warning and what I assumed to be forgiveness. I bowed my head, embarrassed that I had already slightly angered the Dark Lord. He pulled me impossibly closer and whispered in my ear, “You shouldn’t worry about the other guests tonight. No one else should be on your mind tonight, except for me.”</p><p>I nodded instantly, feeling partly like a chastised child but mostly flustered at his demands. I attempted to take a deep breath, as much as my corset would allow, and forced myself to clear my mind of any possible spectators watching our interaction. Our waltz continued and I scanned the room, my mind beginning to race with different ways to redirect our conversation. Not even a minute into dancing with a suitor, not to mention the Dark Lord himself, and I was already acting like a disobedient child. </p><p>I bit my lip, wondering if my usual tricks to get myself out of trouble with my father would work with a Dark Lord. I lifted my eyes to his face once again, peeking through my lashes. “What I meant to say, my Lord, is that I found it ironic. All of this week, I’ve relied on my faith in you and our cause to calm my nerves,” I whispered softly. “All I’ve ever wanted to do was please you and assist you in our cause.” </p><p>The Dark Lord peered down at me, his piercing gaze traveling from my face, down my neck, before resting on the locket. He seemed startled for a moment before shaking his head slightly. He paused our dance, glancing up at my face before his eyes greedily returned to the locket. </p><p>“Please me?” he questioned, almost mockingly. He tugged me closer and the locket buzzed with excitement. I nodded quickly and tried to soothe the irrational anxiety that accompanied his scrutinous gaze. He bent down and whispered into my ear, “Do you plan on showing me how faithful you are, my Lady? Do I deserve a demonstration on how well you could please me?”</p><p>…</p><p> </p><p>Oddly, I was surprised that most people didn’t notice the Dark Lord leading me from the Ballroom. I felt somewhat relieved and slightly frightened, knowing that no one was witnessing this. Although I knew that no one would question our Lord, I couldn’t help but wish my father would step in and protect my honor now, rather than defend it’s tattered remains after this night. I had never been alone with a male, besides my brother, since I turned thirteen. Even at Hogwarts, Draco kept a vigilant eye on me and always accompanied me everywhere I went. This wasn’t the same for all of the girls in my year; I had heard horror stories from Pansy about her night with a seventh year when we were fifteen. </p><p>With the Dark Lord’s hand tightly gripping my elbow, all I could manage was a quick backward glance before he tugged at my arm, demanding my attention. My mother and father were busy dancing, gazing into each other’s eyes, while Draco was pulling in Blaise for a kiss in the middle of the dance floor. </p><p>I snapped my head forward, allowing the Dark Lord to guide me up the stairwell and onto the balcony overlooking the garden. I worried my bottom lip, wondering how I would get myself out of this situation without offending him. </p><p>A small part of me was secretly excited to be alone with the Dark Lord; heat pooled in my lower stomach and my insides clenched with an unknown rush of excitement. A larger part of me was terrified, due to my embarrassing lack of experience and the fact that this was the Dark Lord, a man that I had worshipped my entire life.</p><p>He guided me over to the stone railing and allowed me to peer over, watching a handful of guests enjoying my mother’s prized rose bushes and mingle amongst themselves.</p><p>“My Lord,” I began hesitantly, still looking over the crowd who had yet to notice us. I jolted against the railing as he suddenly pressed against me, his chest to my back, without any warning. One of his hands rested on the railing next to me and the other settled over my chest, tracing the outer edge of the locket. I gasped involuntarily, heat rushing up to my face, leaving behind a scarlet trail of embarrassment and nervousness. </p><p>The locket around my neck hummed with delight and sent jolts of pleasure through my body and pooled in my lower stomach, counteracting my frightened nerves. I felt like a mouse caught between a hungry feline’s paws, waiting to be toyed with before my ultimate demise. </p><p>The Dark Lord chuckled against my neck, his breath tickling the few hairs that escaped my french twist. “I would think myself more of a serpent rather than a cat my Lady,” he whispered.<br/>

My eyes shot open again and I floundered for a moment, trying to detect any trace of the Dark Lord’s presence in my mind. Without my previous training in the mental arts with my godfather, I most likely wouldn’t have been able to sense him glossing over my thoughts. His presence in my mind felt like feather’s cascading through my fingertips-- soft and almost undetectable.<br/>

“Don’t you agree,” he continued, obviously waiting for an answer. I took a deep, calming breath and peered down into the gardens, watching the guests below. “Of course my Lord,” I agreed. “Although, I’ve never seen a serpent play with it’s food.” </p><p>He hummed in agreement and both of his hands travelled to the back of my neck, his fingers trailing across my bare arms. Dark magic prickled against my skin and I felt myself becoming lost to the sensations, barely noticing him undoing the chain around my neck. Abruptly, the constant tingles and bolts of electricity that had been dazzling my senses all night faded, leaving me with nothing but my feelings of nervous excitement about being completely alone with the Dark Lord. </p><p>I turned around slowly, afraid to make any sort of wrong move. I pressed my back against the stone railing in an attempt to create some sort of space between myself and the Dark Lord and gain some control over my emotions. When I finally gained the courage to look up from his shiny oxfords, I realized that his focus was no longer on me but was completely absorbed by the locket. He turned the locket over in his hands, closely examining it’s condition. After a few moments of this, his red eyes looked up from the locket and met my own. </p><p>His blank mask revealed very little but his eyes burned with seething anger. “Where did you get this?” he questioned me, his voice not giving away any hint of emotion. I couldn’t stop the irrational fear that coursed through me and pressed my shaking hands together. </p><p>“Under a bed in the West Wing,” I whispered, closing my eyes, afraid to see his reaction. Words continued to pour out of my mouth, as if I had been dosed with a Truth Serum. “I was looking for one of the earrings my mother got me for my birthday under the bed and I found it. I mean the locket and the earrings. I accidentally touched it and nothing happened. Well, I mean nothing bad happened. It just felt, I don’t know, good to touch and wear? I was so nervous and it almost seemed like the locket was trying to calm my nerves. I didn’t think it belonged to anyone since no one’s been in the West Wing for over a decade except for a few House Elves,” I rambled, shaking like a leaf. </p><p>Suddenly I felt the Dark Lord’s hands brush against my shoulders and travel upwards to cup my face. I kept my eyes closed, too afraid to see the anger that was most likely still burning in his crimson eyes. </p><p>“The locket belongs to me-- it’s an heirloom crafted by Salazar Slytherin himself. It’s been many years since I’ve seen this locket and I was not aware that it had become...misplaced,” he said. I could sense the gentle brush of him skimming my thoughts again and I fought against my natural instinct to raise my occlumency barriers that my godfather helped me craft the previous summer.</p><p>I opened my eyes but refused to meet his gaze, instead studying the buttons on his robes. “I would have never worn it without your permission, my Lord, if I knew it belonged to you. Please forgive my ignorance,” I begged, twisting my fingers together in an effort to release the pent up anxiety that had been steadily building inside me since I was escorted from the Ballroom. </p><p>A quiet moment passed. The sound of the guest mingling below faded slowly, mixing in with the nearby owls’ hoots and the crickets’ chirps. I took a deep breath and was immediately hit with an overpowering wave of the Dark Lord’s scent. </p><p>Hesitantly, I lifted my gaze and my eyes widened when I realized how close my Lord’s face was to my own. He opened his mouth to speak and his warm breath washed over my face, causing my lower stomach to clench with a foreign feeling. </p><p>“Punishing ignorance is foolish, my Lady,” he whispered. “However, according to the Traditional Laws, you did take something that did not belong to you, which qualifies as theft. That something belonged to me. The punishment of theft, no matter the ignorance of the thievery, should be delivered swiftly, in order to avoid any repeat offenses. Don’t you agree darling?” he smirked darkly, his thumb rubbing soft, soothing circles into my cheek. </p><p>My lips parted but no sound came from my mouth. I nodded slightly, transfixed by his intense gaze. Both the Dark Lord and I were wrong earlier--he was not a serpent or a feline. Instead my Lord was a snake charmer and I was the cobra, hypnotized by his dark beauty.</p><p>“An eye for an eye,” I recited, remembering how my Lord had used the same words to justify Father’s duel with my grandfather, Cygnus Black. My Father had all but demanded a duel for our family's Honor after my Cygnus questioned my brother’s and I parentage in an attempt to strike my mother from our grandmother’s will. </p><p>The Dark Lord smiled at me and cocked his head to the side, as if he was contemplating a serious matter. “An eye for an eye. Someone has been reading up on the Traditional Wizarding Laws,” he smirked, chuckling softly.</p><p>“Now tell me, my Lady, what should I steal from you?” he asked, his hands tightening around my neck. He leaned in towards me with a predatory hunger filling his crimson eyes and my eyes fluttered closed.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thank you to everyone whose read, left kudos, or commented on the first chapter! It really means a lot to me and again, I would love to hear any feedback or criticism on this work! It means the world to me and I really appreciate it! :)<br/>My goal of the first meeting between Lilana and the Dark Lord was to bring attention to the Dark Lord's crazy mood swings and hint at his obsession with objects. I've always been interested in a "Hoarder" Dark Lord so I tried to incoporate some of that into this chapter.</p><p>**Sorry for the cliff hanger but for my first fanfiction that I've ever posted, it kinda seemed required to leave y'all hanging!</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This is my first writing adventure so please be kind!! Constructive Criticism is very welcomed and appreciated!! I've been playing around with this storyline for a few years and finally decided to publish some of the chapters that I've already written. I'll try to post a new chapter every week or every other week, depending on my schoolwork. Thank you so much for reading my first story.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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